


A Rush of Blood

by chimneysmoke (recension)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-16
Updated: 2012-06-16
Packaged: 2017-11-07 20:58:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/435374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/recension/pseuds/chimneysmoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Short & Sweet comment ficathon on LJ.</p><p>Prompt was: "Harry Potter, Harry/Hermione, 'Stand here beside me baby in the crumbling walls'"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Rush of Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for _Deathly Hallows_.

His heart broke to hear her crying. Every night since Ron had left, when she thought he was sleeping and only then. First a gentle sniffle, then a whimper. Sometimes soft hiccuping sobs into the cold nights.

The heavy burden of her loneliness collided with the promise she had made to him. She would not abandon him, so he carried her forward with a broken heart.

As the year moved on, days bleeding into weeks, Harry was reminded of the season with the first snowfall. The ground hardened with frost, the chill infecting them.

The hopelessness of their search only further fed the despair. Without clues or direction they seemed to be pushing a boulder uphill, awaiting rescue or a strike of genius or death brought on from fatigue. It was beginning to not matter which.

They were treading water in the middle of the ocean, lost. Just the two of them.

 

One night, Harry couldn't take it anymore. Her sobs began in the dark just like usual, but he snapped. He couldn't lie there and let it happen. He crossed to her bed fumbling the few steps in the dark and climbed in behind her. Her sobs ceased, her shakes stilling as she let him hug her, hold her close, squeeze her tight. They slept embraced through the night.

Their days went by in a blur of endless moments. Hermione, curled up with _Beedle the Bard,_ while Harry tried his best to do research. Pages turned all day in silence.

At night, every night, Harry wrapped his arms around her to keep her from weeping. He held her against him to try and keep her whole.

 

He woke to Hermione's lips against his, startling him awake with the gentle touch. He whispered her name but she ignored him, just kissed him. Her eyes were open, he could tell that much in the dim light, proving she wasn't dreaming.

Harry felt for a moment like he could read her thoughts. She was finally giving into the hopelessness, finally giving in to the thought that these days might be their last. She wanted one last night with someone, anyone, to be reminded of Ron and all the ways she would never have him again.

Harry shut his eyes tight, and kissed her back.

It seemed so resoundingly clear that there was no point in keeping promises that held hope for victory so unlikely. 

Her skin was soft, softer than he thought it might be, but he had never thought much about Hermione's skin before. _It's all the same in the dark,_ Harry thought—a phrase he had once overheard Seamus say. He couldn't help thinking how false it was. He could substitute her with anyone in his mind but it wouldn't stop the truth that this was Hermione. The woman kissing him, pressing against him, begging for him in silence. He gave in. Gave in all of himself to her.

He pressed his hips against hers, buried himself inside of her, without knowledge or thought to all he was taking.

The sensations were new to Harry, incredible pleasure and her guiding touch—no doubt she'd done research on the topic—had him boldly seeking relief and release within her. She was silent mostly, panting lightly, gasping on occasion, but encouraged him by squeezing her legs at his hips or her fingers in his hair.

When the pleasure grew to be too much, he tried to withdraw but it was too late. He spilled inside of her, burying his head into her shoulder bashfully. She held him close, her lips dragging along the skin of his scar. He knew then she hadn't been imagining Ron.

In the afterglow Harry briefly imagined their life without wartime.

They could live in a small cabin out in the wilderness, could make a decent go of it together. Eventually she wouldn't think of Ron and he would forget Ginny. They would fold into each other and learn to smile again.

There was no use in dreaming.

"You should get some sleep," she whispered in the dark. Harry agreed and slid out from inside of her, spooning up behind her as he had so many nights before only with clothing involved.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her close as he rested his head. It didn't take long for him to drift off.

In the dark, Hermione cast whispered cleansing spells, evidence of the deed disappearing without trace. The last thing she wanted was a conversation in the morning should Harry find blood in the bed. What had been done was done, it had been her choice, and she felt better for it.

Wild owls gave out hoots in the distance as she settled back into Harry's arms. When Harry gave a soft snore against the back of her neck, she let the dam inside of her break. She held Harry's arm around her body as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Laying still in the dark, she mourned the loss of hope.


End file.
